“Brother, if you insist on this, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”
Sang Lan let out a sharp cry, her hands weaving rapidly, black runes flying from her fingertips, forming a massive array in the air.
The array glowed brightly, a terrifying suction force emanating from it, trapping Sang Qi firmly.
Sang Qi struggled fiercely, his Shura Blade slashing wildly, trying to break free from the array’s hold.
“Sang Lan, how dare you! When Father emerges from seclusion, you’ll pay for this!”
His roars were filled with resentment and fury.
At that moment, a dark figure darted in through the window, landing between them.
“Stop!”
The figure bellowed, their voice deep and authoritative.
Sang Qi and Sang Lan looked closely, it was the Great Elder of Shura Hall.
The Great Elder’s gaze was piercing, sweeping over them both, his voice grave, “With a great enemy before us, you two are fighting amongst yourselves? If word gets out, won’t other forces mock us?”
The Great Elder’s status in Shura Hall was no less than the Hall Master’s, he was, after all, a founding elder.
Sang Qi snorted coldly, ceasing his struggle, but his eyes still burned with resentment, “Great Elder, my brother died unjustly, I can’t let this go!”
The Great Elder sighed, speaking earnestly, “Young Master, I understand your feelings, but the situation is complicated.”
“That Chen Ping shattered even the shadow of Tianyuan Pavilion’s Master, showing no fear of them, so the forces backing him are far beyond our imagination.”
“Rushing into revenge won’t just fail, it’ll plunge Shura Hall into crisis. Better to bide our time, investigate Chen Ping’s backers, then plan.”
Sang Lan dispelled her array, saying slowly, “The Great Elder is right, Brother, our priority is to stabilise the situation, protect Shura Hall, and wait for Father’s emergence, then all will be decided.”
Sang Qi fell silent for a moment, then burst into bitter, helpless laughter.
“Fine! Fine! Fine! You’re all afraid, but I’m not! Even if it means death, I’ll avenge my brother!”
With a fierce tug, he broke through the array’s lingering force, his figure shooting out of the room like an arrow, leaving only a dark afterimage.
Sang Lan gazed at his departing figure, a trace of worry in her eyes.
She knew a greater crisis was looming over Shura Hall.
Meanwhile, in Tianyuan Pavilion, the ripples from the Master’s dissipated shadow still lingered, the Master sat in the main seat, his gaze icy as he looked down, “Chen Ping, Shura Hall, this debt will be settled slowly…”
…
In Liuli City of the Second Heaven, even the air shimmered with vibrant light.
Mo Qingyun held Chen Ping’s hand, her skirt brushing the stone path, stirring faint sparkles.
She pointed to floating lanterns by the street, her eyes brighter than their glow, “Look, these are the Second Heaven’s unique ‘Light-Tracing Lamps’, they can reflect street scenes from a hundred years ago. It’s your first time here, I’ll show you around.”
Chen Ping looked down at the firelight dancing in her hair, his fingers unconsciously tracing the warmth of her palm.
He had never set foot in this realm, his past years spent in slaughter and cultivation, never witnessing such splendid yet gentle sights.
The scent of osmanthus wafted from a teahouse at the street corner, where a storyteller recounted the legend of Tianyuan Pavilion’s Master subduing demons a century ago, his voice rising and falling, yet far less captivating than the smile of the woman beside him.
“That’s ‘Mirror Flower Lake’ up ahead.”
Mo Qingyun pulled him around a corner, the lake’s surface like a vast glass mirror, reflecting floating pavilions in the sky, “They say wishes made by the lake are especially potent.”
She crouched down, her fingertip touching the water, ripples spreading as tiny golden scales appeared in the lake’s depths, palm-sized koi with scales that shifted into rainbow hues with the light.
